


My High Aspirations

by pizarra



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Royal Merlin, Royalty, Unrequited Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizarra/pseuds/pizarra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Uther of Camelot falls in love with young Prince Merlin of Anglia. While Morgana may not be bothered by the fact that Uther’s husband is younger than both of them, Arthur, on the other hand, is certain that Prince Merlin only wants the crown and he’ll prove it soon enough. </p><p>In which Arthur can’t understand how a young and beautiful man like Merlin can ever fall in love with Uther.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My High Aspirations

Arthur hates him on sight.

Prince Merlin is up on the dais, kneeling in front of the King, as Geoffrey proceeds with the coronation. He glares as he sees Morgana smirk at him. So this is the reason why his father had taken a trip to Anglia for a month and proceeded to write numerous letters after that. A man. Or, more accurately, a boy. ( _“He isn’t a boy, Arthur! He’s of age!” “Yeah, well, he looks like a boy!” Morgana rolls her eyes at him._ ) He has unruly dark hair, long limbs, and an elfin face, and ridiculously huge ears. Arthur expected someone more handsome. He’s also got a smile that could rival the brightness of the sun, but that’s neither here nor there.

“I crown you Merlin, King of Camelot!” Geoffrey is announcing to everyone in the Grand Hall. Soon, the deafening sound of applause fills the room. Arthur catches Morgana’s eyes, and claps politely along. Being the youngest of three princes of Anglia, Merlin had no hopes of getting the crown in his homeland. And that’s why he married Uther, to become King. Arthur is certain of it.

 

\----------==========----------

 

Arthur has succeeded in avoiding the newly-crowned king for about a month.

It’s no secret to him that most of the people in Camelot find it humorous that Arthur’s stepfather is even younger than him. He ignores the whispered conversations he sometimes hears as he walks down the market lane or the stables, because he can’t do anything about it right now. However, he’s human and he gets embarrassed at his situation. Seeing King Merlin is not making the situation any better.

He sees him in the corridors or during court sessions or council meetings, but as soon as Merlin looks like he wants to talk to him, Arthur makes up an excuse and leaves. It’s not that difficult—as crown prince, his duties are expanding. However, Uther demands Arthur’s presence in the dining hall that night, and he was unable to say no.

“Father, Morgana…” Arthur sees Morgana’s frown and the quick warning in her eyes to behave, “My lord.”

Merlin smiles at being addressed and says, “Arthur, please call me Merlin.”

The brilliance of Merlin’s smile almost makes him smile back, but he stops himself and nods instead. This is the young man who only married his father for power—it’s best if he remembers that. Merlin’s smile dwindles a bit at Arthur’s lackluster reaction, and Arthur quickly looks at the plate being set in front of him as he counts that as a win. Neither his father nor Morgana made a comment, so he’s certain they noticed nothing amiss.

They dine in peace for a while, with his father asking him about the knights and the patrols and such. It’s nice; takes him back to when there is no King Merlin and his father is not making a fool of himself for being such a lovesick puppy over this…this _boy_.

Until this.

“Merlin tells me that you employed a new manservant. Morris, is it?”

That stills Arthur. Is the new king spying on him? He clears his throat. “Yes.”

“What happened to the other one?”

“He was being a lazy sod.”

Uther nods and hmms and turns his attention to Morgana who is telling them of how she’d like to visit her father Gorlois’ grave two months from now. Arthur glowers at Merlin once his father starts asking Morgana questions, and he sees Merlin’s beaming eyes dim, shame written all over his face. Good, Arthur thinks. He should have known better than to look into his affairs.

 

\----------==========----------

 

He’s just come from a quick meeting with the captain of the guard to check defenses and patrolling schedules. He’s tired, and the dinner earlier further amplified his exhaustion. He’s on his way to his chambers when he hears his name as he is passing by the council chambers. He stops walking and leans closer to the door.

“What’s wrong, love? Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“You know Arthur already hates me, why on earth would you say that?”

“Say what?” His father’s tone is confused.

“That! That I ‘told’ you about Morris!”

“But you did.”

“I didn’t! I merely noticed that the boy following Arthur was different from the one before, and mentioned it to you.”

“Frankly, love, I don’t see the difference. Nor the problem.”

“Arthur probably thinks that I am sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong! If he didn’t hate me before, he’d certainly hate me now.” Merlin, Arthur notes, finished with a whine, much like a child would.

It’s something that his father had told you him never to do since he was young. Princes never whine. And now, the King’s own _husband_ is grumbling like a child who has been divested of his favorite blanket. He smirks. Knowing that Uther hates that kind of behavior, he waits for the backlash.

To his surprise, Uther chuckles instead. “Arthur doesn’t hate you. I’m certain of it. He’s just…adjusting.” Merlin mumbles something that the thick doors muffle. Then Uther all out _laughs_. His father seldom laughs. The most that Arthur could get from him is a wide smile and a chuckle. “Stop overthinking. He likes you. Why don’t you try spending time with him, hmm?”

Thoroughly disgusted by his father’s actions, Arthur steps away from the door and quickly rushes to his chambers before slamming the door shut.

“Leave me!” Arthur shouts at Morris, who is turning down the bedcovers. “Now!”

Morris scrambles out the door.

Arthur seethes. His father has changed ever since he married that…that prince! Whereas Arthur would have been given a loud scolding for childish behavior, Merlin gets away with it. And he’s slandering Arthur’s name to the king, too! Telling the king that Arthur hates him is apparently just a ploy to gain sympathy, and it doesn’t matter if it’s true. Arthur has never shown him contempt out in the open.

He lies on the bed and covers his eyes with an arm. His father getting married is probably the worst thing that has happened to Camelot. He acts…so different now. As if he’s been enchanted.

Arthur snaps up. What if his father _has been_ enchanted?

 

\----------==========----------

 

Arthur isn’t all that surprised when Merlin visits the training field the next day. It was early morning, the usual time for the knights’ drill. Arthur is demonstrating how to feint to a knight-in-training, when everyone on the field stops and stares at something behind him. He straightens up as the knights all bow. He turns around.

There, by the stands, is Merlin with Morgana and Gwen and a couple of guards. He’s wearing a dark blue tunic that matches his eyes and a silver cloak that billows out behind him. The early morning sun gives his pale complexion an ethereal glow. Arthur does not think him beautiful. Not in the slightest. He frowns at the distraction that the young king’s presence brings. His knights need to train, not be sidetracked by _Merlin_.

He instructs the men to take a break before walking towards King Merlin. “What can I do for you, my lord?” Arthur asks politely.

“I, uh…” Merlin stammers, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Didn’t mean what?”

“I didn’t mean to make you stop training. I just wanted to watch. I just thought…”

“Didn’t have knights training back in Anglia?” he asks before he can stop himself. Gwen gasps and Morgana hisses a severe “Arthur!”

He’s about to apologize when Merlin laughs, surprising all three. “We did train our knights in Anglia, but I have always been sickly as a child. My parents forbade me from joining in with my brothers. Hence, I didn’t get to see a lot of training. Just tournaments.” Merlin shrugs.

“So…you don’t know how to use a sword, then?”

Merlin shakes his head.

“Does my father know that?” Arthur mentally winces at the question. Even Gwen and Morgana roll their eyes at him from behind Merlin. But he doesn’t take the question back. He knows his father and his views on swordsmanship.

Now, it is Merlin’s turn to furrow his brows, looking at Arthur as if he’s a terminally slow child. “Of course. And your father maintains that my lack of skills with the sword does not matter.”

Of course. Uther is completely and magically besotted that he wouldn’t have any problems with this young man’s lack of sword skills.

“But if you would like for me to leave, I will. I have no intention of making a scene.” Merlin gestures helplessly around them.

Arthur looks back at his knights. Some are standing, some sprawled on the ground, some drinking from their water skins, but all of them watching Merlin from afar. He weighs his options. If he says no, then his father would not only remark on it, but would also see it as a slight against his husband. And Arthur really has no grounds to decline, as Camelot nobility have always been welcome to watch training. Not to mention that the noblewomen do it all the time, like Morgana. Oh god. Morgana would never let him hear the end of it.

He nods. “You can stay, although I would suggest to sit in the stands with the ladies. It’s early still, but the heat can get stifling. My lord.”

Arthur takes Merlin’s nod as both an acquiescence and a dismissal. No matter how young Merlin is, he is still a king.

“Sire,” Leon says, as both he and Arthur stand by the sides to watch the knights spar with their chosen partners, “why is the King Consort observing us, if I may ask? I believe that this is the first time I’ve seen him far from the King’s side.”

“Perhaps he has become bored inside the castle.” Arthur shrugs.

Leon nods at the knights. “He’s gotten half of these lot off their arses, that’s for sure. They’re trying to impress him.”

He watches the men scattered across the field and realizes that Leon is correct. They are putting their best effort into their training, their movements quick and precise, not sluggish as you would expect this early in the morning.

“Of course they are. He has my father’s ear, therefore could improve any of these men’s position should he choose to.”

“You don’t…” Leon stops.

Arthur considers Leon his oldest friend. They grew up together, played together until their duties and social standing became more distinct. “I don’t what, Leon? Come now, don’t be shy.”

“You don’t seem too happy with your father’s marriage.” Leon says with a whisper.

He grunts. “It just takes a while getting used to.”

 

\----------==========----------

 

Arthur knows nothing about magic, except that it’s dangerous and has to be eradicated. To outright claim that Merlin has enchanted Uther would only make his father furious with him, Arthur’s certain. A month in the dungeons, or even a flogging will be given. And Arthur has no intention of bringing this matter to the king without some evidence.

He may not know how to determine if Merlin has enchanted his father, but Gaius might. The physician has helped his father eradicate magic from Camelot all those years ago.

He’s about to knock on the physician’s chambers when he hears a familiar voice.

“I’m bored.”

It’s Merlin. And he has that particular tone of voice again that Arthur does not find amusing—one part insolent and one part whining.

“Uther promised me starry skies and beautiful mountains and adventure when he proposed to me. But now I’m bored. Uther won’t let me do anything!”

Gaius makes a tsk-ing sound. “I’m sure that’s not true, my lord.”

“It’s true!” Merlin insists. “He won’t let me do anything unless I’m accompanied by knights! Not taking a ride with my horse, or going through the lower town, or, heavens forbid, going to the library. I even have guards outside our chambers. I wanted to go to the archery range yesterday, but he said it could be dangerous!”

“You’re the King Consort, of course you need protection. That’s just the way it is, my lord.”

“Don’t call me that! And I can protect myself,” Merlin grumbles.

“I’m sure you can,” Gaius agrees. “Have you talked to Uther about this?”

“Yes, loads of times. He doesn’t listen. He’s as stubborn as they come!”

Gaius chuckles. “You must have known that even before you married him.”

Nobody speaks inside the chambers for a while, making Arthur wonder what’s going on inside. Perhaps Merlin is finally indicating regret for marrying his father? He hopes so.

Another moment passes, and then Merlin says, “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Merlin’s voice is just above a whisper, full of yearning and love. And Arthur grits his teeth, because it’s a lie. It’s all a lie. He’s enchanted the king and Arthur will prove it.

“And yet I still married him,” Merlin continues. “I must be an idiot.”

“Or a young man in love.”

“Ugh. Can you please not use the word ‘young’ when talking about me and Uther? Every time someone reminds him of the considerable gap in our years, he gets all noble, not coming to bed and staying up all night working on taxes. It gets irritating, I assure you.”

Gaius chuckles.

“Can’t you talk to him for me, Gaius? You’re his oldest friend, he’ll listen to you.”

“I shall try, my lord.”

“Merlin, Gaius, call me Merlin. And thank you thank you thank you!”

Arthur backs away slowly from the door, as Merlin spews nonsense about certain plants and herbs found in Anglia. It appears that even Gaius has succumbed to the enchantment. Arthur is on his own.

 

\----------==========----------

 

He ensures that both his father and Merlin are somewhere else before sneaking into their chambers. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he’s certain that he’ll recognize it when he sees it.

Nothing under the bed or over the canopy of the bed. Nothing underneath his father’s desk or in the drawer beside his bed. Nothing.

He looks around and sees the one place he hasn’t searched yet. The closet.

His father never goes near a closet. He has his old manservant for that, so it would be quite easy to hide something there. A poultice or a magical stone or whatever. Arthur is kneeling on the floor and rummaging through the various pairs of boots when he hears voices coming from outside.

“I’m alright! Just—could you please just go away? I’m fairly certain that I’m safe within my chambers, so there’s no point in you standing there. Just—go!” Merlin demands, voice severe, but not shouting.

A small part of Arthur wants to panic as he fits himself inside the closet. He saw King Merlin go riding not more than thirty minutes ago. He usually goes riding for hours, sometimes even forgetting the time and gets back to the castle later than usual, much to Uther’s concern. What made him come back earlier today?

Merlin slams the door shut with a strangled growl. Arthur opens the closet door a sliver and watches as the King Consort haphazardly throws his cloak on a chair. He’s frustrated, and it shows on the red blotches on his high, pale cheeks.

“Can’t even go riding without stupid knights following me everywhere,” he hears Merlin grumble as he splays himself on the bed.

He came back because of the knights? Arthur is hoping that Merlin leaves again immediately when the door opens.

“Merlin?”

He hears his father’s heavy boots before the king comes in his line of vision. He strides straight to his husband, but Merlin turns on his side, with his back to the king.

“Don’t talk to me,” Merlin declares rather petulantly.

His father sits next to Merlin on the bed, bringing a hand to rub up and down Merlin’s arm. He leans over and kisses Merlin’s hair, asking, “What’s happened now?”

“Go away.”

“Merlin,” the king says, but he’s smiling and his voice lacks its usual uncompromising tone, “as your king, I order you to tell me what has happened.” His father waits for a bit, and when no answer is forthcoming, he leans again and kisses Merlin’s ear. “Let me guess. The kitchen didn’t have your favorite sweets today. No? How about…” Another kiss. “Oh, I know, Gaius finally ran out of patience with you and ordered you away from his workroom?”

Arthur has never seen his father act this…tactile before. Not to him or Morgana. When they were children, the most they received were a hug and a small kiss, and then a pat on the back as Arthur grew older. But this…this is almost…sweet. Arthur has half the mind to reveal himself and tell his father that he’s acting like a lovesick fool, but both kings might not look too kindly at the prince for being inside their closet.

Merlin quickly sits up and faces Uther, his eyes glinting with anger. “It’s those damned knights! They always follow me everywhere!”

“Merlin, I’ve told you—“

“It’s not dangerous inside the castle or the lower town! And even if it is, I don’t care if it’s dangerous! I can take care of myself! I had more freedom back in Anglia!”

“Are you saying that you regret marrying me?” the king asks in a too-quiet voice. His face guarded, much like when Arthur speaks out of turn or when Morgana challenges his commands.

Merlin looks away. “No. Although what I’m saying is that Arthur and Morgana have more freedom than I do. And they’re your heir _and_ your ward.”

“Arthur has been trained to kill. And Morgana is only my ward, not my daughter. You are my husband, and as such, needs more protection.”

Merlin takes Uther’s hand in his. “I love you, you know I do—“

“And I love you, too.”

“—but I need space. My own space. I need to be able to walk without having people following me everywhere. Sometimes I want to get to know your people, but they get scared of the knights. How can I be a good king when I can’t even approach the citizens without them running away in fright at the sight of me? And we haven’t spent that much time together! It’s selfish, I know, but I wish we could just get away for a while.”

To Arthur’s surprise, his father nods. “Alright. How about you only require the knights when you go out of the citadel?”

Merlin’s beams. “And?”

“And what?”

“Uther!”

The king frowns again as he thinks. “Oh. Right. Perhaps I have time for a picnic once I’m done with the council today. How does that sound?”

“Oh, thank you, Uther!” he exclaims before leaning over and kissing the king.

The kiss starts chaste, just a few pecks, but then the king places a hand on Merlin’s nape and brings him closer, deepening the kiss. Merlin groans, voice low and heavy, as the king plunders his mouth wetly. Arthur can see their tongues sliding in and out, in and out and against each other wantonly.

And _Merlin_. Merlin climbs onto the king’s lap, arms wrapping around Uther’s neck, his mouth wet and desperate. Merlin looks surreal, the warm afternoon sunlight bouncing off the pale skin of his face. They part for air, and both kings are breathing heavy, the sound of their panting reverberating against the stone walls.

Arthur’s stirring, so he looks away. He shouldn’t even be aroused at the sight of his father with his…oh gods, his father’s young husband.

“Merlin…Merlin, I don’t have time. The council will be reconvening soon,” the king says, his lips against Merlin’s.

Arthur’s eyes get drawn to the bed at the sound of Merlin whimpering. “Cancel it.” Merlin’s grin is wicked as he grinds his hips against Uther’s, making both Arthur and the king groan. Thankfully, Uther’s and Merlin’s heavy pants masked Arthur’s wayward moan. Arthur sucks in a breath as Merlin continues moving his hips, once, twice, rolling and grinding, and Arthur can almost taste Merlin’s arousal in the air.

“Merlin,” his father chastises the young man on his lap, although his voice is wrecked. “I really must go.” The king leans away from Merlin’s mouth, his big hands on Merlin’s slender hips. “The council…”

For a while, Arthur thinks that Merlin will insist on finishing what he started, but the young king simply rolls his eyes and pouts. “Gods, sometimes I really hate you,” Merlin mutters.

The king chuckles. “No, you don’t.”

“Fine, but if you leave now, I’m going to continue on without you. I’m still mad at you.”

Uther laughs, surprising Arthur. Seeing his father so relaxed in the presence of another person is such a novelty, that Arthur’s certain his eyes are bugging out. Arthur switches his attention to Merlin, who is grinning. “I’m serious. Don’t expect sex tonight; I’m too angry to even let you touch me. And be thankful that I’m even going to let you sleep here.”

Still laughing, the king nods. “Yes, my lord.”

Merlin pouts again. “Don’t call me that.” He slips off the king’s lap, and lays back down on the bed. Arthur can clearly see the definite bulge tenting Merlin’s breeches, and he has to tear his eyes away to check if his father’s coming this way. But Uther just adjusts his clothing and his hair, kisses his husband goodbye, and leaves the room.

A few moments after the door closes, Merlin cups his crotch. The young king has his legs splayed out as he carries on caressing his own erection. Before long, he gives an exasperated huff, gets up, and starts peeling off his clothes.

As more and more skin is being revealed to Arthur’s eyes, his length hardens and throbs even more. Merlin is pale all over, with collarbones that jut out, sharp against his skin and glows under the orange light of the sun. Long, slender fingers unlace his breeches, and Arthur watches as the cloth slides down Merlin’s hips, shapely buttocks, and legs.

Merlin crawls into the huge bed, and Arthur has to bite his lips before a moan escapes. The young king is hard, his length a magnificence of its own. Merlin’s cock is long but not too thick, curling against his belly as he lies on his back again. And proceeds to stroke himself.

Arthur feels his mouth go dry at the scene unfolding before him. Merlin wasn’t kidding when he told the king that he’d carry on without him. With his eyes glued to Merlin on the bed, Arthur unlaces his breeches and shoves his hand inside to grab his own length. He squeezes once, twice, but doesn’t stroke. He wants this to last.

A low groan comes from the young man on the bed, and Arthur bites the inside of his cheek at the sound. Merlin is rubbing a nipple now with his free hand, squeezing the nub once in a while, moaning at his every touch on his over-sensitized skin. His legs are restless, heels digging into the mattress, knees folding and unfolding as he grips his cock tighter and faster.

With no reason at all, Arthur’s hand starts to move up and down, mirroring Merlin’s movements to his own length. Seeing Merlin so open, so wanting, like this…He has no words to describe how hot it is to watch this young man pleasure himself.

Merlin’s mouth falls open as he pants, a tinge of pink creeping from his face down to his neck and beautiful chest. He whimpers and his hips hitch up, seeking friction but finding none. He repeats the movement, and his elegant eyebrows furrow as he gets lost in the tight clutch of his hand and his burgeoning desire.

The moment Merlin suckles two of his fingers then proceeds to tease his hole, Arthur almost comes right there and then. This time, he emits a low grunt that gets swallowed by Merlin’s own shout. Both hands are now working in tandem, up and down, in and out, to bring him to completion, and Arthur speeds up his movements. He wants to come the same time as Merlin. The young king looks like he’s near, chest heaving, motions becoming sloppy and stunted, whimpers becoming louder in the otherwise silent room.

And he’s not wrong. Soon, Merlin’s hips are agitated on the bed, his fingers pistoning in and out of his hole while his other hand is a mere blur on his cock. Arthur’s breath sounds loud in his ears as he watches Merlin moves faster and faster until he stills with a shout, ribbons of come painting his belly and stomach.

A few more strokes and Arthur’s own completion follows after. He hadn’t realized he’s made a sound until Merlin quickly sits up and glances around. “Who’s there?”

Merlin’s voice is still shaky, but his eyes look alert as he looks at Arthur’s direction. The young king stands up, then quickly dons his tunic, all the while staring at the closet. Arthur immediately drops from his sex-induced high at the thought of being caught in his father’s chambers watching his father’s husband get off. His father will certainly have his head for this.

King Merlin is about to step closer to the closet when a knock comes on the door. “Sire?” a muffled voice asks.

Merlin frowns and turns his head, but his eyes stay locked to where Arthur is. “Yes?”

“Your husband the King requests your presence.”

A beat or two passes, and Arthur is torn between revealing himself and just letting Merlin open the door when Merlin turns away. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

With a final look in Arthur’s direction, Merlin cleans himself up, finds a fresh tunic in his bedside drawer, then leaves the room.

Arthur quickly leaves through the servant’s passage.

 

\----------==========----------

 

Arthur fumes as takes the familiar route to his own chambers. He was _almost_ seen, and he didn’t even have a magical potion to show for it.

He sees impenetrable blue eyes every time he closes his. He sees King Merlin’s pale, flawless skin, sees slender hips rising above the bed in arousal. He hears heavy pants as if the other person is right next to him.

Arthur covers his burning face with his hands as the realization hits him: _he just wanked off to the sight of his stepfather wanking off._

 

\----------==========----------

 

This time, Arthur goes out on a hunt for three days to get out of the castle. He couldn’t stand seeing the young king—he feels like Merlin knows it was him who was hiding in the closet as he was pleasuring himself.

The king didn’t make a fuss about Arthur leaving; he just nodded and agreed that a hunt would be a good idea. Arthur suspects that his father has plans of his own that he wouldn’t mind having Arthur gone from the castle.

When he gets back, Arthur finds that he’s right. His father is closer to Merlin than ever before, and Arthur sees evidence of it during petitions. Their clasped hands are far too intimate in Arthur’s eyes, so he looks away and focuses on the person in front of them.

A farmer from the south lost some of his crops due to a wild beast, one that looks like—

“A massive hound, your highnesses. With red eyes.” The farmer, far too scared, explains.

His father is still quiet—far too long, in Arthur’s opinion—and he is probably thinking that the request is pointless.

“A rabid dog?”

The farmer shakes his head vehemently. “No, Sire, can’t be! No dog can be that massive. It’s bigger than a person on all fours and twice as long!”

“Gaius, do you know what kind of beast this is?”

The physician thinks for a minute before answering. “It sounds like a gwyllgi, Sire. It is, indeed, a massive dog, and very strong, with baleful breath and dark red eyes. It is also very dangerous.”

After a few moments, his father says, “Very well. Gaius, I want you to search for a way to kill this beast. And Arthur, gather a few of your men and ready them to face this…gwyllgi. You’re dismissed.”

Arthur nods at his father and his husband, when King Merlin speaks up. “I would like to go with Arthur and his men.”

Arthur whips his head so fast. And he’s not the only one. Even the council members, on their way out of the chambers, are frozen and struck dumb with the declaration. Gaius is also giving King Merlin the eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?” the king asks.

“I would like to go with Prince Arthur and his men to find the monster.” Oh, the whelp is going to get in trouble.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Arthur raises his eyebrows at Merlin. Does he really have no sense of self-preservation?

Arthur observes the grinding of his father’s jaw, and marvels at his newfound patience when it comes to Merlin. He also wonders if the king will finally discipline Merlin as he should have been disciplined in the beginning.

“Leave us,” The king commands, and his tone allows no argument. “Arthur, Morgana, stay.”

It’s a testament to Merlin’s ignorance of Uther’s character that he doesn’t even look the least bit scared as the king stands up and paces in circles. He’s just watching the king’s progress across the floor as if it’s a common occurrence.

Only when the hall is completely empty does the king speak. “May I ask why you want to go?” his voice is soft, but with a furious undertone that the idiot Merlin doesn’t even take note of.

Merlin shrugs. “You mentioned the other day that with the bandits all over the forests, your knights may be scattered too thin, so I know you don’t have enough soldiers to send to the village. With me coming along, Prince Arthur will have more people. Problem solved.”

“You are a king—!“

“Really? I haven’t noticed,” the quick retort stops his father short, and Arthur can tell that his father is nearing the end of his patience with the purple shade that slowly creeping up his neck.

“What do you mean by that?” Uther’s voice is softer than before, and his eyes have taken a sharp edge. He catches Merlin’s eyes and shakes his head minutely, but the young king ignores him.

“You have the knights supervise everything I do, and follow me wherever I go.” For all the fire in Merlin’s blue eyes, his voice is oddly calm, as if he’s talking about the weather or the crops.

“They’re for your own protection—“

“You reject my offers of helping you with the taxes or the diplomatic treaties or the workings of running a kingdom.”

“You run the castle—“

“Morgana runs the castle, and she’s damn good at it, too. And may I remind you that I may be married to a man, but I am not a woman.”

Utterly frustrated now, his father glares at Merlin. “What does that have to do with…” The king makes a vague gesture around the room.

“It means, Uther, that I am nothing more than a glorified spouse, and you know it. I’m only here to look pretty whenever we’re in public, and to charm your guests. You don’t even consult me on matters of visiting noblemen.”

“Of course not! You’re just my husband!”

Merlin sucks in a breath. The young king’s eyes harden, but Arthur can see that he’s hurt. He can also see that his father regrets what he just said, but Arthur knows that he can no longer take that back. His father turns away and speaks in a calmer voice. “I only meant that—“

“I don’t care what you mean. And that’s alright; I just realize that it’s perhaps the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me. I only wish you made that clear before I accepted your proposal.” King Merlin stands up, brushing imaginary dust away from his clothes. “I want to do something worthwhile for Camelot, and show the people that I may be from Anglia, but I also have my own honour to uphold. I shall be joining Arthur and the knights on their quest.”

“This isn’t a mere hunting trip, Merlin! It’s a dangerous beast that kills! No! You are staying here, and that’s an order!” The king’s face is completely purple by now, and the air is thick with his anger.

“You can’t keep me here forever, Uther,” Merlin says as he steps off the dais and walks to the doors.

“I can, and I will!”

Merlin stops by the door to look back at them. His gaze is boring into the king’s as he says, “I’d like to see you try.”

With those final words, King Merlin leaves the council chambers.

 

\----------============------------

 

A couple of knights were already at the door of the Kings’ chambers when Arthur gets there. His father has ordered that Merlin be kept under extreme supervision at all times, and that he should never ever, at all costs, be allowed outside of the citadel for the time being. Arthur thinks that his father is being an overprotective tyrant, but he can’t exactly tell his father how to handle his own husband. He knocks on the door and announces himself.

When Merlin opens the door, Arthur is all ready to be shouted at. However, the cheerful King Consort is back as Merlin greets them with a smile on his face. “Gentlemen, I’ve been expecting you.”

Looking closely at King Merlin’s face, he can see that the hardness of his jaw is still there, so is the intense anger in his eyes. Arthur is immediately on alert as he enters the chambers. He looks around the chambers to see if anything’s amiss, and apparently, the action does not slip Merlin’s attention.

“Would you like to search the chambers? I assure you that I’m not hiding anything.”

Merlin’s tone is mocking and challenging, and normally, Arthur wouldn’t let himself be goaded into doing something. However, his father sent him here, and if somehow Arthur misses something, he’ll pay the price. So he nods at the knights. “Be careful with the things here. Remember that these are still the Royal Chambers.”

Arthur and Merlin stare at each other as the knights search the chambers.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur says. He feels like he should say something at least. Merlin knows a different Uther—one who laughs easily and kisses freely—and he might not understand that the king is different when he’s sitting in his throne. “We have to do this. My father—“

“I know full well what your father told you. And please, let us not waste words or employ false sympathies. You have been waiting for this since the beginning. You want me gone.”

Arthur looks away, shame coloring his face. The way Merlin said it is straightforward, just an observance of a fact and no hint of resentment whatsoever. Arthur feels his respect for this young king rise. He also sees what has drawn his father to Merlin, like a moth to a flame—that quick wit that can’t be smothered or toned down. Merlin is a beautiful and smart, a fighter.

“Then,” Arthur says, “but not anymore.” At the Sir Kay’s nod, Arthur dismisses all the knights and instructs them to stick to their assigned stations. “Look, my father can be a stubborn man, so just let this pass and don’t anger him anymore. He’ll come around after a while.”

Merlin nods. “Thank you, Prince Arthur. Now, I’d like to rest.”

Arthur knows when he’s been dismissed, and since Merlin is a king, he says nothing and takes his leave.

 

\----------===========-----------

 

Morgana enters his chambers the morning after as he’s preparing for the trip to the south.

“Did you hear?”

Arthur opens his eyes. He had expected that Morgana would be able to wait until he gets back before sharing the latest gossip she’s heard. “Good morning to you, too, Morgana. Can’t this wait? As you can see,” Arthur gestures to his manservant who is currently packing the things they need, “we’re very busy.”

“King Merlin took another bedroom as his own last night. He’s also not talking to Uther.”

Arthur stops what he’s doing to look at Morgana. That’s surprising. From what he’s learned of King Merlin, he doesn’t seem the type to run away from his problems. But… “He’s young,” Arthur shrugs. “He’s probably still angry at Father. Don’t worry, before you know it, he’ll be back in the king’s chambers in no time.”

Morgana nods but still looks troubled.

The atmosphere in the castle has changed. The servants all look somber and downcast. Conversations along the hallways are stunted and abrupt, the castle staff all feeling the tension between their two kings. It’s like the castle from before, when their King was a grumpy old man who never smiles. Arthur never noticed how Merlin’s presence made the castle better until now.

He sees his father on the steps of the castle to see him off, but no Merlin. He nods at the King in goodbye and kicks his horse into motion. Perhaps that’s for the best; he already thinks about King Merlin too much as it is.

 

\----------==========----------

 

Arthur and the knights are about to eat dinner when a rustle sets them all on alert. Patrols have reported that bandits are all over the forests, and it wouldn’t be impossible for them to happen upon some raiders. Everyone is quiet, each knight grabbing their sword, to prepare for what’s to come.

The sound is coming from Arthur’s left, and he slowly and silently walks towards it. A few more rustling and—

“There you are!”

Arthur almost drops his sword on his foot. It’s King Merlin, and he’s dressed in dark traveling clothes, tugging his horse behind him. And he’s smiling.

“My lord!” the knights exclaim, as they kneel one by one.

He feels a sharp poke on his side, and he looks down to see Leon kneeling and pointedly looking at him then at the king. Getting the message, Arthur nods and says, “My lord.”

Looking over Arthur’s shoulder, King Merlin asks, “Is that food? Good, I’m starving! Do you know how hard it is to follow you? You knights are fast!”

The knights get on their feet now, and frantically search for a bowl and spoon to give to the King, while Merlin settles himself on a log near the fire. Arthur’s shock dwindles down enough for him to exclaim: “What in bloody hell are you doing here?”

Merlin just _grins_ at him as he takes the offered bowl from Sir Gareth. “Relax, Arthur. Why don’t you eat? Perhaps you’re just hungry.”

Having the king here is not good. Arthur situates himself in front of Merlin. “I’m asking you again, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m going to help with the gwyllgi? What do you think I’m doing here?” Merlin snorts as he takes a bite from the bread Sir Kay gave him. He snorted. What kind of king snorts?

He sits down next to Merlin and asks, “Does my father know you’re here?”

“Nope.”

“Of course not. Now, instead of having seven men with me, I’ll only have five left. Sirs Kay and Gareth will take you back to the castle tomorrow.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Yes, they will. You can’t be here, my lord, or my father will have my head.”

Merlin snorts again. “You’re his only son; he won’t touch a hair on your head. Me, on the other hand, he’ll probably execute without a thought.”

“My lord—“

“Merlin.”

In frustration, Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he grits out. “Merlin, please don’t be stubborn. I know you’re angry with my father right now, but he’ll be worried once he finds out that—“

“No, he won’t. You heard him, Arthur. I’m nothing to him.”

As if he realizes what he just said out loud, Merlin looks around at the knights and blushes. Leon, Percival, Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan, Gareth, and Kay are all eating in silence, pretending that they can’t hear every single word. He trusts these men, and he knows they won’t repeat what has been said.

“That’s not true,” Arthur says, softly.

“In any case,” Merlin says, “I’m here now. I’m staying, I’m going to help those poor people, and you can’t stop me.”

“Merlin, it will be far worse when we get back. If you return tomorrow, he’ll forgive you immediately.”

“I don’t want his forgiveness. He, on the other hand, has to earn mine. Thank you for dinner. I shall rest now.” Merlin moves away and kindly declines Gwaine’s offer to help him with his bedroll.

 

\----------==========----------

 

Arthur is on second watch along with Leon when King Merlin wakes up. He shares a look with Leon, and they both smile. Perhaps the young king is not used to having to sleep on a hard ground. As King Merlin approaches them, Arthur asks, smirking. “The forest floor not to your taste, my lord?”

King Merlin snorts. “No. Just missing the feel of your father next to me.”

Leon laughs quietly as Arthur blushes. “Oh, heavens above,” he mutters.

“If you don’t want to hear those kinds of things, then stop implying that I’m too soft to join you and your knights,” King Merlin says with a grin.

Arthur doesn’t want to hear those things, but not for the reason they think. Every thought of the bedroom that Merlin shares with his father brings him back to that glorious afternoon of watching Merlin pleasure himself. He blushes again.

King Merlin slumps against the tree where Arthur is. They stay like that for a while, until Merlin says, “You can ask me, you know.”

Frowning, Arthur looks at the king. “Ask you what?”

Merlin shrugs. “All those questions you want to ask me. Whatever you want to know.”

Arthur stares at the fire. He has plenty of questions, but he doesn’t want to ask.

“Go on, Arthur.” King Merlin bumps his shoulder.

“We…” Arthur clears his throat. “We didn’t know about you, Morgana and I.”

Merlin nods. “I suspected as much. You were surprised when I arrived.” A few moments pass, then Merlin says, “However, Uther has told me all about you two. You and Morgana are his most prized possessions and he clearly loves you both to death.” The young king shrugs. “I don’t know why he didn’t tell you about me. He’s…different now. He’s not the same man I knew when he was, you know, courting me. I think it has something to do with being back in Camelot, the burden of running a kingdom.”

“How...”

“How did we meet?”

Arthur nods.

“You know that my father invited him to Anglia to celebrate the years of peace between our kingdoms?”

“Yes. He, uh, he left me in charge of Camelot.”

Merlin nods. “Yes, well, I met him the night he arrived. We talked. Your father can be a charming man when he wants to.”

Arthur says nothing.

“I, uh, I was the one who pursued him. He…he’s so intelligent and charming, I just…When I told him, he said I was too young for him. But I pushed and pushed until he gave in. He said he wanted to do it properly, so he courted me.”

“Your parents…”

“Hated him, of course. They said that Uther’s too old, too jaded for me. And it didn’t help that my father and you father have been friends for a long time. My father considered it as a betrayal. I think I fell in love with your father the day he said that he won’t continue if my parents disagreed. So, I begged my parents. Being the youngest, they have never been able to say no to me.” Merlin smiles. “They didn’t show up for the handfasting, of course. Neither did my brothers.”

“I’ve met one of your brothers. He went here for a jousting tournament. Prince Will? He reached third place.”

Merlin laughs. “Ah, yes. He’s the stubborn one. He would deliberately disrupt me and Uther whenever he suspects we’re spending time together.

“I don’t want to think it, but…sometimes, I suspect that the reason why my family didn’t come to the ceremony was because they knew it would end like this.” Merlin’s voice is full of sorrow, a deep emotion that he hasn’t heard from the young monarch.

He lets the silence grow. Arthur doesn’t know his father as well as he thought; the presence of the King Consort sitting next to him is one indication of that. But Arthur doesn’t want Merlin to be that sad again.

“My father loves you; I’m certain of it.” When he gets no reply, he looks down to see the King sleeping next to him, beautiful face serene in firelight.

Another thing that Arthur is certain of is that he’s falling more and more, and he needs to find a way out.

 

\----------==========----------

 

The gwyllgi is indeed a massive hound and the moment Arthur and his knights swing their swords, it becomes angry. So angry, in fact, that it he brings down Lancelot and Percival with a swipe of his huge paw.

“Retreat!” Arthur shouts over the din of frightened villagers. Elyan and Gareth drag Lancelot and Percival to safety, as Arthur does a headcount. Leon is guarding the villagers as they run toward their houses, Kay and Gwaine are trying to wound the beast, distracting it, stepping away quickly when the gwyllgi comes near. That leaves—

“Merlin!” he shouts. No. No, he is not going to lose King Merlin in this quest, for fuck’s sake! “Merlin!” he roars.

A blue light coming from his right distracts him. It’s a speck at first, but it gets bigger, getting nearer. Arthur sees the direction where it’s going and barks, “Gwaine! Kay! Out of the way!”

His two knights roll away in different directions just as the beast raises itself on his two hind legs. The gwyllgi sees the blue light and turns to face it, just as the light strikes the beast on the right side of its chest.

The gwyllgi gives a might roar as it falls on its back, crushing the grass underneath and shaking the earth with its weight. Without waiting a second more, Arthur approaches the beast and cuts off its head with one strike. The head rolls and stops by Gwaine’s foot, much to the knight’s annoyance.

“Ugh, that’s horrid, that is.”

Closer to the beast, Arthur can see clearly what killed it. The tail end of a still-flaming arrow sticks out of the gwyllgi’s chest, blue fire slowly burning the bleeding flesh around it. An arrow. Who used an arrow? Still holding his sword, Arthur walks to the direction where the blue-flamed arrow came from. Was there an archer in the village, someone they didn’t know about?

As he approaches the edge of the forest, Arthur sees Merlin wriggling his way down a tree trunk. “Merlin?” he asks.

Merlin turns around and grins. A quiver is strapped across his chest and he’s holding a bow. The thumping of boots behind him signals the arrival of the knights.

It’s Gwaine who breaks the silence. “King Merlin, our savior!” he laughs.

The rest of the knights laugh too, making Merlin grin wider.

“How…” Arthur gestures vaguely. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to fight?”

Merlin rolls his eyes at him. “I said I didn’t know how to use a sword. Just because I can’t use one doesn’t mean I’m defenseless.”

“And the blue flames?”

The knights all stop cackling to hear Merlin’s answer.

Merlin grins again, face proud. “Rum.”

Arthur frowns.

“I didn’t have the heart to take what little oil they have, so I went to the tavern and got rum. I read up on gwyllgi before I left—“

“Yes, Gaius says that the heart is on the right side.”

“Yes, but I saw that your swords couldn’t penetrate it, so I figured that we needed something to loosen up the flesh so that my arrow can pierce it.”

That’s…that’s actually quite smart. He smiles and bows dramatically. “King Merlin, our savior.”

“I didn’t know that rum burns blue,” Elyan remarks to the assenting nods of the other knights.

“I did,” Gwaine says. They all turn to look at him. “What? It was an accident.”

 

\----------=========----------

 

“My lord,” a page approaches them as soon as they get off their horses, “your husband the king wishes to see you and Prince Arthur in the throne room immediately.”

His face impassive, Merlin nods and hands the reins of his horse to a squire. Arthur follows the young king to the throne room.

“Your majesty,” Merlin greets the king, voice flat, while Arthur nods at his father in greeting.

His father stares at Merlin’s blank face for a while before clearing his throat. “I take it your quest went well?”

Merlin nods at Arthur, an indication to begin his report as the leader of the knights. “Yes, Father. King Merlin pierced its heart with an arrow and I delivered the final blow. The village is safe once more.”

The king nods. “That’s…that’s good. I, uh…” Arthur watches silently as his father fidgets in his throne, before giving up and standing up. He’s nervous, Arthur is certain. “That’s all, I suppose. I—“

Before the king can finish, Merlin nods sharply and walks out of the throne room, leaving Arthur alone with his father, mouth gaping. Arthur is struck by how much his father have changed since Merlin came. The old Uther would have demanded that Merlin stay, or at least lock him up in his chambers for disobeying (something that he’s always done to Arthur), but the king just let Merlin go, looking hopeless.

He’s loathe to admit it, but his father may be enchanted after all, but not by magical means. He has simply given in to the enchantment of loving Merlin.

 

\----------==========----------

 

The castle is slowly getting back to its normal state before the kings’ fight, although Merlin still claims the room next to Morgana’s as his. The day after they came back, he saw servants carrying clothes out of his father’s chambers—Merlin’s clothes.

The King Consort still watches the knights’ training once in a while, and Arthur has even provoked him to show off in the archery range for the knights-in-training. He saw his father watching in the sidelines, but the King didn’t approach them. Nor did Merlin acknowledge him.

Merlin has also taken to reading in the royal gardens when he has free time in the afternoon. Arthur has known this for weeks, and he’s been debating ever since if he should join him sometime to just…talk. They’ll be doing nothing wrong by just talking. Talking is harmless, Arthur thinks, as he winds his way to the royal gardens. The knights are done training, he has no patrol to go to, no knighting ceremony, no other princely duties. He has a rare free time, and he intends to spend it talking with Merlin. Just talking.

And if he gets lost in the brightness of his smile, then no one needs to know about it.

He is walking round the garden pavilion when he hears his father’s voice. “Are you still not talking to me?”

“I talk to you,” Merlin answers.

Arthur walks closer to the corner to see where his father and Merlin are, keeping his steps light and silent. Merlin is sitting in one of the stone benches and his father is standing beside him. Both men have their backs to Arthur, both looking straight ahead.

“Yes, in court and during council, but not when…not when it matters. You haven’t returned to our rooms.”

“Is that a command, my lord?”

Frustrated now, the king turns slightly to face Merlin. “No, it’s not! It’s just—will you stop acting like a child already and return to our chambers?”

Arthur can see how Merlin’s back stiffens at the comment. He slams the book he’s been holding down on the bench next to him. “First, I’m _just your husband_ and now, I’m acting like a child. Is there any more insult you’d like to hurl at me or can I go now?”

The king suddenly slumps next to Merlin on the bench with an air of defeat. His proud father is being taught humility by a young man more than three decades younger than he is. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, all of it. I didn’t…My wife Ygraine died because of magic.”

“Yes,” Merlin says, “I’m aware of this.”

“Since Ygraine died, my life’s goal is to raise Arthur to become a strong and wise king, and to run Camelot, and keep the peace as much as I can with other kingdoms. Or plan a war with some. There is very little that I take for myself. You… You stunned me with your brilliance and your youth and your beauty. And when you pursued me, I…I became selfish. I didn’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Uther…”

“It’s been so long that I’ve forgotten to share the burden of running a kingdom with a consort. I trust you with my life, and I trust you with the kingdom, I just became used to doing everything myself.”

Merlin covers Uther’s hand with one of his. “Arthur is a good man, you know. He’ll be a great king. You raised him well.

“Uther,” Merlin takes back his hand. “I understand your intention, but I need to prove my worth to your people. And to you. I want to prove that you made a good choice in marrying me.”

“I did,” the king replies. “I’m mostly worried that you think me unworthy.”

“Gods, sometimes you’re such an idiot.”

“Will you forgive me?” Uther asks, humbled, hopeful.

“Hmm…maybe,” Merlin replies before leaning in and kissing the king.

Arthur turns away at the passionate embrace before him. He takes a couple of breaths before walking away as slowly and as silently as he could to not disturb the kings. It’s alright, he tells himself as he strides out of the gardens and onto the training grounds. It’s alright.

He merely wanted to talk.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a fan of Uther, but I am a fan of Giles. So...Uther's a bit of both here? I hope that's okay! :)


End file.
